


Message Received

by meeks00



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Explicit Language, Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:46:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29058456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meeks00/pseuds/meeks00
Summary: Atsumu can’t help but stare at the way Hinata’s mouth moves around the foreign words. The way his lips purse around the new sounds and syllables. How his tongue darts out to lick his lips when he pauses to recalibrate and return to speaking in Japanese.That alone isn’t the problem.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 12
Kudos: 111





	Message Received

**Author's Note:**

  * For [espercially](https://archiveofourown.org/users/espercially/gifts).



> Here’s a birthday drabble for [Cody](https://archiveofourown.org/users/espercially/pseuds/espercially) (aka espercially)! Please let me hug you with words. I have never written Atsuhina before, but your influence is strong, dear one! I hope you had a great day and have a great week and month and year.
> 
> Special thanks to [RT](https://archiveofourown.org/users/risquetendencies/pseuds/risquetendencies) (aka risquetendencies) for coming up with this fic title for me in like a minute! 
> 
> Also, I scrapped attempt no. 1 (cyberpunk AU HAHA) after my comp died this afternoon, and I blame the death on that drabble, so I hope this little guy is ok for you instead. lol

Hinata has seen the world, and it shows. 

He jumps easily from Japanese to English to Portuguese and sometimes jumbles it all up into excited sentences that have Bokuto hooting with joy, Sakusa raising his eyebrows in wonder, and Meian looking like a proud dad. 

And Atsumu - well. 

Atsumu can’t help but stare at the way Hinata’s mouth moves around the foreign words. The way his lips purse around the new sounds and syllables. How his tongue darts out to lick his lips when he pauses to recalibrate and return to speaking in Japanese. 

That alone isn’t the problem. 

There are also quiet moments too. Hinata’s eyes sometimes dart around when it’s time to pack up and go their separate ways. He’ll look from player to player, like he wants to stay late together, doesn’t want to leave, wants everyone to come a little bit closer, closer. 

Toward the end, always the end, like an afterthought, sometimes those eyes will turn cautious, questioning, and they’ll land on him - Atsumu. And Atsumu’s already looking. Every goddamn time. He can’t help it. 

And that - that right there’s the fuckin’ problem. 

Atsumu doesn’t like looking first. And he sure as hell hates being looked at last. 

He couldn’t give less of a fuck that golden child Hinata may very well be the star player that the MSBY Black Jackals have been waiting for, that he meets Atsumu’s contact points like he has a sixth sense threaded directly into Atsumu’s mind, that he’s basically Japan’s prodigal son returned. 

Hinata is just - 

“Atsumu-san!” Hinata calls. 

The others have gone ahead into the dorms already, Atsumu the last one through. He turns, watches Hinata jog into the lobby to catch up to him, his gym bag bouncing at his hip, hair a damp and fluffy mess of eye-catching orange. 

“Shouyou-kun.” 

Hinata’s smile grows as he pulls up in front of Atsumu, barely out of breath, the fit-as-fuck bastard. “Hey! Wanna watch the EJP match together? I still have some of the Brazilian candies that you like leftover. Don’t tell Bokuto-san. I love him to death, but he ate all of _my_ favorites!” 

Atsumu’s clearly being bribed, but he shrugs. He was going to watch the match anyway. “Fine.” He ignores the way Hinata’s eyes seem to glow beneath the fluorescent lights, and they head up. 

They sit on Hinata’s bed with their backs propped up by pillows against the wall. The match isn't terribly eventful, though Atsumu feels a flash of nostalgia at watching Suna and Aran and doesn’t realize he finishes half a pack of Hinata’s candy until he has a lap full of wrappers. He doesn’t apologize, because he doesn’t regret it, but it still makes him uncomfortable. Still, Hinata just shoots him a quick smile every so often, keeps holding open the bag.

It seems like he barely even blinks and the match is suddenly over. Atsumu was busy focusing on EJP’s technique, their open spots - and the way Hinata’s body warmed the entire right side of his body through four full sets. 

And through it, Hinata was strangely quiet. There was no jumble of excited sentences at Aran’s mind-blowing cut shot, no mish-mash of Portuguese and English and Japanese at Suna’s wicked one-man read block. No moment to watch a tongue dart out between sentences and pink lips purse around words like a kiss. 

At the end of it, Atsumu is strangely pissed off. He sits up, stretches, gets up to leave. 

But then Hinata reaches out, his hand wrapping around Atsumu’s arm, the calluses of his palm rough and real and a little too much right now. It’s a hot press of skin against skin, and it sends a jolt through Atsumu’s chest like an EKG through the wrist. 

“Will you stay?” Hinata asks. 

“What for?” Atsumu snaps.

Hinata’s face falls. Atsumu would feel guilty if he ever felt guilty for anything. 

Then Hinata scowls. “Because I’m asking you to. Because I want you to,” he says, his tone stubborn. He pauses, swallows, his scowl leaking away, turning cautious, questioning, like it’s been for weeks now. And then he says, “Because I want you, Atsumu-san.”

And Atsumu feels it again, another jolt from the EKG effect of that touch. It zips over his skin so strongly he can almost see sparks before it pounds at his chest. 

He takes a breath, considers first before acting. Because this is Hinata. _Hinata._

He’s more than just a teammate, more than just a fuckin’ great volleyball player, more than just a friend. And he’s finally back from overseas. 

Hinata is just -

Just Hinata. 

The boy Atsumu has known since high school. Who Atsumu promised to set for one day. Who Atsumu has watched for years on TV and in news clips from oceans away. Just waiting. 

But he’s been waiting, it seems, for too long. 

Because here Hinata is now. With his bright fuckin’ orange hair and even brighter eyes staring up at Atsumu like _he’s_ the one who’s been waiting - cautiously, a question in every look - the best saved for last.

And so Atsumu bends closer, closer. And he shivers as Hinata’s callused hand grazes up his wrist, his forearm, and moves to cradle his jaw in an invitation that, finally, finally, Atsumu understands and accepts. 

“Shouyou-kun,” he says.

Then he presses his lips to Hinata’s, kisses him deep to taste the flavor of Brazilian candy on his tongue. He runs his hands over Hinata’s skin to make his lips purse with pleasure around his name, a whispered mantra in the dark, _“Atsumu, Atsumu.”_

And, throughout the night, Atsumu presses closer still to watch Hinata’s mouth move with each breath, the sounds escaping him like foreign syllables of a new language that will become theirs - and theirs alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on Twitter [@meekswrites](https://twitter.com/meekswrites)!


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